All over Jack


All over Jack

Jack, torn of corner, bitten, no heart. You promise
wealth, beyond the disputing pack, say certain wisdom
can be bought. I demand a wedding feast with broken
ribs, a Honeymoon, masks, whips, riding boots, and Venice.

Hitching up trousers for kisses outside the Greek shop.
you ask how long before police recognise my glossy robes,
pelt of rat. I feel as split open as a pomegranate, red orbs,
waiting to be pricked, my juice spilled extravagantly.

First published in issue 16, Under the Radar magazine, Feb 2016

4 thoughts on “All over Jack

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